Anchor
by liltrix
Summary: After a nightmare, Rory, as always, is Amy's anchor to reality. Set after 6x04, The Doctor's Wife. Oneshot.


**A/N: I wanted to write something about the events in The Doctor's Wife because that episode gave me feelings.**

**Amy and Rory are perfect. The end.**

* * *

Rory is dead.

This time, he is reduced to almost nothing: a shriveled, lifeless body. This is not Amy's Rory. This is a Rory that has been eaten away at by the inner corners of his mind, by a bitter hatred that has consumed him and left him limp with nothing else. The words across the walls are proof: red, scrawling words filled with disgust. _Disgust towards her_.

This shouldn't be happening because it doesn't make sense. None of it does.

Amy finds herself on the ground, all of a sudden (how did she end up there?) and is crawling towards Rory- no, the shell that used to be him; she is crawling on hands and feet and she is trying not to hyperventilate.

"Rory… I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Her voice comes out in a strangled moan and she's not actually sure if it's coming out at all, and then she is by that _shell's _side and she is weeping.

The sorrow and guilt and grief consume her, and she is swallowed into a pit of murky, fearful blackness.

* * *

Amy wakes with a gasp; her stomach is knotted and a lump has formed in her throat, but when she brings her hands shakily to her face, she finds that she is already crying. Rory- _her_ Rory- is leaning over her, fright and concern etched into his features. His hair is tousled from sleep and his shirt is buttoned only halfway, reminding Amy of the fooling around they did before bed.

That seems a long time ago, now.

She looks to her shoulder and sees Rory's hand grasping it; he had probably shaken her awake. Images of her nightmare came flooding back through her brain and she suppresses a sob. Upon hearing this, her husband immediately envelops her. Rory's arms were always so strong, so secure.

He's rubbing her back in soothing circles and she tries to calm herself down.

"What was it about?" he asks.

Amy takes in a shuddering breath. "I-it was a memory. A memory of when that _thing_ had taken control of the TARDIS and were running for our lives, and I lost you, and when I came back you… you were-"

"I was… dead?" Rory prompts.

"Yes, and you had waited for me- waited so long, and you grew to hate me and-"

"Amy." Rory pulls out of the embrace and looks her in the eyes. "If there's one thing to be sure of when deciphering reality from a dream, or when someone's trying to mess with your mind,thatis the obvious factor because I could _never_ hate you. I couldn't. Not even if I tried."

Amy feels more grounded now (Rory has brought her back to earth, like he always does) but the terror still gnaws away at her subconscious. "I just… I wish I could forget. Forget what I had seen because it wasn't _real_. That thing was just playing with my head but now it haunts my dreams. It's rooting from my deepest fear, Rory. The fear of me _leaving_ you to die... all alone." His hand strokes her hair and his face is full of empathy.

"Oh, Amy…" he whispers, his voice soft and a little unsteady. "You just… you need to let that fear go, okay? I would never resent you, not for anything." Rory holds her again and Amy lets herself sink into him. She presses her body against his, as if to make sure he is really there. Her hands meet the back of his neck and the steady sound of his heart calms her nerves. Loosening the embrace, Amy meets Rory's lips and he responds gently; the kiss is soft and tender but as it deepens it becomes something a bit more anxious. Amy's hands trail through Rory's hair and grip it, her heart pounding wildly as she yearns to meld with her husband, to keep kissing him forever, to never let him out of her sight. Rory seems to sense her desperation and breaks the kiss. Amy lets out a small groan, half of annoyance and half of lust. His eyes are full of reassurance, and- there's something else, something almost _wise_ and Amy feels herself falling.

She is falling into the comfort of Rory, just like she always does. He is her wall, her anchor.

Rory kisses Amy again but this time on the forehead, a kiss of sweetness and consolation. They lay back on the bed together. He carefully brushes the stray hair out of her face and she smiles.

"I love you, stupid," Amy says with warmth, and her voice is shaking a little but she isn't scared anymore.

Rory laughs softly at Amy's consistent use of _stupid _as a term of endearment. "I love you too, Amy. Always."

It takes both of them a while to go to sleep, or at least it does Amy: Rory is asleep before she is, but she doesn't mind. She spends a while watching him, the sound of his breathing music to her ears, until she slowly drifts off herself, now devoid of nightmares.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews would be lovely. ;_; It was my first time writing Amy/Rory!**


End file.
